Eadlyn Selects

Operation Free Kile

My goal in asking Calvin for a movie date was to regain my confidence after that last movie date disaster. Calvin is waiting for me, in a button up lavender shirt and dark washed jeans. His shiny shoes and slicked back hair don't seem right on him.

The castle movie theatre is the same as it always has been, but one step in and my throat tightens. I clench and unclench my fists. It will not happen again. Heath is six feet away and the other guards are very alert. They are as aware as I am that I could have used a little help a month ago.

Calvin is unaware of my throbbing pulse as he makes small talk and compliments my dress overly much. He is pleasant as we negotiate what movie to watch. I'd like a documentary on Armani. He'd prefer Oliver Stone's first movie about Vietnam. Just with that, I get an inkling of the divide between our personalities and tastes. I manage to convince him to watch a new release of the latest action adventure movie.

The movie is loud and funny and we laugh a lot, devouring the greasy popcorn and giggling when our knuckles clash in the bucket of kernels. Earlier, I asked Heath to sit behind us in case I needed him to enforce my boundaries. Each action scene, I can hear him groaning behind me. Finally, I can't take it. I ask him what is the matter. He explains how unrealistic the fight scenes are. Calvin and I smirk and roll our eyes at him, as if he's the stick in the mud parent.

After that, we glance back after each combat scene, and Heath ticks off on his fingers what he didn't buy from the scene. It totally adds to the movie.

When it is over and we've rehashed the worst parts, Heath strolls to the back of the theatre. Calvin and I talk for a good hour. I find out Hale helped him dress, explaining the odd suaveness to his usually roughhewn image.

Calvin is sweet, funny, and a great guy to spend the evening with. But when he stands up and offers to walk me to my next date, I have no regrets. He seems to kindly understand that I have to divvy up my evening. I sense he knows no sparks were ignited between us. Yet, he maintains his humor and even picks up the popcorn we spilled.

When I say goodbye in the south wing hall, I impulsively go up on tiptoes and press my salty lips to his. It's...nice. Pleasant. Popcorny. Everything about him is pleasant. He does not deepen the kiss and I step back and thank him again.

When I round the corner to head to my next date, Kile is standing there.

He saw the kiss. I can tell by the broken look on his sweet face.

"That wasn't—" I begin. "It didn't mean anything." Panic flushes my cheeks and I want to reassure Kile so badly, but I can't. I shouldn't. I won't.

"I don't mean anything to you, do I?" His voice breaks on the last word and I flinch.

What can I say? I pushed you away because I like you too much to marry you? That I need someone who I can keep at a distance so I can do my job right? That running this country means not having real love?

"Kile, I shouldn't have led you on." With effort, I keep my face blank of the emotions tormenting me. "I can't select you."

"But you can select him?" he jerks his chin toward where I left Calvin.

"No!" I blurt out.

"So what," he clears his throat before going on. "You were just practicing?"

I gasp. I bite my tongue to keep from correcting him. Everything else is the façade. What I have –had—with him is the only real thing I've ever known. And that is why I can't tether him to me. He deserves better.

"I know you think you're helping everyone by doing the Selection. I want you to know, you do not have to. You can stop. All this. You do not have to pick a guy this year or this lifetime if you don't want. You don't need a guy to rule and you don't need a guy to be happy. You are the strongest, most independent, sexy, funny, kind woman. I don't—"